


Hitchhiker's Guide to Rockstars

by April_Showers



Series: Imagines Alternate Universe Volume 1 [8]
Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Famous Singer AU, Hitchhiking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/April_Showers/pseuds/April_Showers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pedro yanked open the compartment and pulled out a CD. He flipped through the booklet till he reached the picture on the back cover; a picture of none other than his chauffeur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitchhiker's Guide to Rockstars

**Author's Note:**

> 'I was hitchhiking and you picked me up and whoops you're a famous rockstar' AU

 

          Pedro was up a creek; literally. After his rusty truck broke down twelve miles outside of Auckland, he grabbed his backpack and began walking to the nearest petrol station. He vaguely recalled his mother advising him to stick to the riverbank if he was lost and travel south-or was it north? Anyways, Pedro now found himself walking-or slogging- down the Southern Motorway, directly next to Boone Creek. His thumb was beginning to be sore from his failed hitchhiking attempts, and he even had natural hitchhiker’s thumb.

          He was walking south for about two hours with no avail, till a large black tour bus blew by.

          ‘Typical,’ Pedro thought, ‘no concern for others.’

          He trudged along a little farther till a small silver sedan pulled a little ways in front of him and into an alcove.

          ‘Hey man,’ the guy leaned out of the driver’s side. ‘Do you need a lift somewhere?’ The driver spoke with a low accent and had wind-blown light brown hair and large blue eyes that sparkled despite the overcast. Pedro’s mind was devoid of all thoughts apart from ‘Dear Lord, he’s hot.’

          ‘It’s going to start raining any minute. You want a ride?’

          ‘Sure, yeah,’ Pedro flustered. He slid into the passenger side and strapped in, placing his backpack on the floor.

          ‘What’s your name?’ the man asked as he pulled out of the alcove.

          ‘I’m Pedro Donaldson. I’m from Wellington, but I’m travelling home from my friends’ home for her birthday.’

          ‘Oh, you want to borrow my phone and call them? I don’t mind.’

          ‘Nah, it’s cool. I don’t want to bother them. I can manage,’ Pedro sighed and flopped back onto the seat.

          A few moments of comfortable silence passed between them.

          ‘So, what’s your name?’

          The man choked up for a moment, till he said ‘Balthazar’ quietly.

          ‘That’s a cool name, bro,’ Pedro replied. He reached for the radio and flicked on his favorite station.

          ‘And that was Balthazar Jones’s latest number one hit, ‘To My Darling’’.

          ‘Oh man, I love that song,’ Pedro said dejectedly. Balthazar took a deep gulp from the driver’s seat.

          ‘You do?’

          ‘Yeah, man. I have both of his albums, listen to them all the time.’

          Balthazar shifted uncomfortably in his seat again. He felt perspiration dripping down his neck and flipped the radio off.

          ‘Oh, okay then.’

          ‘I just-would rather not listen to that.’

          Pedro reclined slightly. ‘Thanks again man, for picking me up. There was a massive tour bus that passed and I was sure they were going to pick me up, but no dice.’

          ‘Yeah, Ursula likes to stick to schedule pretty tight.’

          ‘Wait, you know them?’ Balthazar became increasingly nervous, but reluctantly decided to share with the stranger.

          ‘Yeah, um, that’s my tour bus. We just finished a gig two hours ago.’

          ‘Sweet. I don’t know any musicians. What type of stuff do you play?’

          ‘Mainly acoustic, some fiddling on the piano. Kind of like Mumford and Sons.’

          ‘That’s cool.’ Only the light thrumming of the engine was left to make noise.

          ‘Actually, uh,’ Balthazar started. ‘That song you like so much?’

          ‘To My Darling? Yeah that song is awesome. I love the crazy acoustic banjo in the middle.’

          ‘Well, that’s my song. I’m Balthazar Jones.’

          Pedro bolted up in his seat. ‘You’re joking. How-who-what?’

          ‘Yeah, check the glove box. I normally keep a copy or two in there.’

          Pedro yanked open the compartment and pulled out a CD. He flipped through the booklet till he reached the picture on the back cover; a picture of none other than his chauffer.

          ‘Holy crap,’ Pedro whispered. ‘You-holy crap.’

          ‘You already said that,’ Balthazar whispered with a slight edge.

          ‘Wow, first time I meet my favorite singer and he insults me.’

          Balthazar’s eyes went wide. ‘I’m your favorite singer?’

          ‘I may or may not have a poster of you hanging in my room. Which may or may not be a little creepy.’

          ‘No, it’s actually flattering.’ Pedro turned and gave him a small smile.

          ‘Balthazar Jones, acoustic rock god of New Zealand, I believe this is the start of a slightly weird but beautiful relationship.’


End file.
